


After

by Paia_Loves_Pie



Series: Soft Smut Sunday [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Soft Smut Sunday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:00:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23158195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paia_Loves_Pie/pseuds/Paia_Loves_Pie
Summary: How did Greg get so lucky?
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Soft Smut Sunday [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672735
Comments: 33
Kudos: 185
Collections: Soft Smut Sunday





	After

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mottlemoth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mottlemoth/gifts).



> Many thanks as always to my wonderful reader bookjunkiecat, and gifted to Mottlemoth for helping to resurrect this Soft Smut Sunday tradition at a time when we need it most.

The realization settled over Greg like sinking into a warm bath: he was beautiful like this, with his panting breaths slowing as he lay there next to Greg, pale skin flushed and over-warm. The scent of him rose from his skin and Greg breathed deep. Sweat beaded on his collarbone as Mycroft ran a slow, satisfied hand from neck to navel, his torso performing a little stretch at the end. The sheets had long been kicked to the end of the mattress, and now their bodies breathed together side by side. The light from the window was waning, casting a warm glow over them both - the summer light extending well into evening. Greg’s chest expanded and this throat tightened a little as he drank in the sight, desperate to remember every detail - the desperate arch of his back, the grasping clench of his hands, the clasp of Mycroft’s thighs around his ears. The gasping that had sounded in the warm space between their mouths, close and private. 

He’d never expected this - that Mycroft would accept his cheeky invitation. That he’d come upstairs with him. That Greg would make him laugh and what that sound - that sight - did to his insides. That he’d let Greg gather him close, coax him to bed. His realm of possibilities had been shattered to make way for this.

Now Greg wondered what else he’d allow. Could he lead him into the shower - just the two of them? Would he let Greg draw close behind him, knead soap through his curls, glide his hands down his back and place soft kisses on the apex of his neck? If he got up to bring him a snack, a drink, a towel...would he lie here and wait? Would he go find his clothes? Greg couldn’t risk it just yet. Not yet.

Mycroft’s eyes were closed as he basked in a self-satisfied sprawl, but Greg’s were wide open. Hoping. Slowly, like a creeping vine, Greg turned and tucked his limbs around Mycroft, settling his chin on a warm, freckled shoulder, rubbing his stubble gently along the skin. Goosebumps prickled in its wake and Greg soothed them with a soft, gentling kiss. Their thighs slid together with a soft sigh.

  
Greg was rewarded with a small, pleased smile as their breaths quietened together. Mycroft lifted his hand and placed it over Greg’s arm, playing through Greg’s arm hair with his fingers, then soothing it back down again. Mycroft turned his face inwards, nudging a nose next to Greg’s, a nuzzle that turned into a kiss, and Greg’s heart floated away. This was different from the hungry, biting kisses before. Less tentative than that first press, before Greg knew what Mycroft felt like inside. This was lazy and slow, long and comfortable. Comforting. Greg pulled him closer still, gathering Mycroft’s leg to drape back over his hip, where it belonged.  _ Come here. Stay, _ his hands said.  _ I’ll be good to you _ . They had all night, and Greg intended to savor every bit of it. 


End file.
